


Reconstruction

by Severina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:04:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She chooses her own fate. And now that she has done so, she will be strong. She will carry on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconstruction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelus2hot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelus2hot/gifts).



> Post Season 4A. I am all in knots over Belle's actions at the town line, mostly because I relate to Rumple so completely, but I tried to get into her mindset here.
> 
> Written for angelus2hot for her bday at LJ's 1_million_words.
> 
> * * *

Belle shivers as she pulls a heavy sweater on over her pajamas, her bare toes curling on the floorboards as she hurries to shut the windows. She vaguely remembers throwing them open the night before, thinking to clear out the stale air in the stuffy little apartment. All is seems to have done is stir the dust and give her goose-bumps.

She rubs her eyes, shuffles to the tiny kitchenette and stares blearily at the contents of her almost empty shelves. Moldy bread and stale crackers, sour milk in the fridge. At least the tea is still good. She sets the kettle to boil and reaches for a cup, a sturdy clay mug painted with robust red roses, and that reminds her of another cup with a delicate little chip missing from the rim and she crumples against the counter, her fingers clutching spasmodically and her straggling hair in her face.

She banished him without a cent. Without even his cane. He'd had to _crawl_ …

Belle forces herself to take deep breaths, to finally straighten at the counter. She will not cry. She has cried long and hard throughout the night, remembering every little moment from their shared past, second-guessing every gesture from him, every word. There are no more tears left.

She pulls her sweater tighter around her as the kettle boils, carries her teacup down the narrow stairs to the library. It is past opening hours but she doesn't bother to dress or fix her hair, doesn't bother to switch the sign to 'Open' or to unlock the door. No one visits the library anyway; days upon days go by with her sitting alone behind the circulation desk, reading and hoping to hear the bell above the door. Her only visitor had been Rumple.

By the time she's done a circuit of the shelves the tea has warmed her insides and she's feeling more clear-headed. The deed is done, and she cannot take it back even if she wished to. Even though a part of her wants to go back in time and do everything differently, have Rumplestiltskin by her side even if it means living a lie. Even if it means sublimating herself, losing herself in him.

But that is not her, she reminds herself firmly. She chooses her own fate. And now that she has done so, she will be strong. She will carry on. 

Belle sets her cooling tea beside her on the desk, draws out a piece of paper from the printer that she rarely uses. Takes up a pen, and smoothes her hand along the crisp white paper. She needs to plan for her future, now that she is alone. Her fingers grip painfully at the stylus at the thought, and she breathes through her nose until the spasm of pain passes. Then she prints carefully at the top of the sheet.

_01\. Organize the library_

She bites at her lip, glances up at the dozens of imposing shelves. A gift, and no ulterior motives when Rumple'd given it to her; she was sure of that. A gift of love, to ease her into this new life, and so that she would have something of her own. She'd cleaned years of accumulated dust from the books and beamed when the new opening hours were posted and the bell was installed to announce each visitor at the door. But she realizes now that she'd merely been playing at being a librarian, in the same way that she had flitted about with a duster in her old life and pretended to be a maid. In both lives, Rumple was there to take care of her. Now she will take care of herself. 

It's a daunting task, made even more so when she raises her eyes to the ever-still bell. She may pull every single book from the shelves, re-number each one, painstakingly enter their new numbers into the computer and store them like-with-like… and still no one will come.

She cocks her head, considering. There had been one other visitor besides Rumple, the new boy who flirted with her shamelessly and pretended that he dropped by only to look at her legs, but who wandered the shelves looking haunted whenever he thought she wasn't looking and who refused all of her offers of assistance. Perhaps he would appreciate some organization, at any rate.

Belle presses her lips together, taps her pen on the paper for a moment before continuing.

_02\. Befriend Will Scarlet_

She can recognize a lost soul when she sees one. And Belle realizes now why the expression she saw reflected in her mirror that morning looked so familiar – it is the same as the one that Will wears so often when he floats soundlessly among the books. They are alike, in at least two ways that she can think of. They have both lost someone, and as near as she can tell neither of them has a friend to turn to for help or a shoulder or a kind word. Her own love is lost, but maybe she can help Will find the missing piece of his puzzle.

Maybe that will help to fill the hole in her own heart. 

And she knows that she cannot really start that process unless she truly begins anew.

_03\. Remove belongings from home/shop_

Belle promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore, so she pretends she doesn't see the damp blot on the paper. 

And she knows that this should be number one on the list, but how can she bare it? The thought of seeing Rumple's suits hanging still and lifeless in the closet next to the sundress she wore the first time they walked together in the park, when he held her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles and made her feel that she was the only important thing in the world. His ties hanging beside her belts and bangles; his shoes, polished and gleaming, next to her heels.

His silk pajamas resting next to the satin gown she wore the first time they made love. 

Belle pushes the paper across the desk with a wordless cry, heedless when it falls to the floor. Their love was real and true, and she deserved more, but oh – she never told him how proud she was of him for rescuing Henry or for braving an entire year with Zelena, and she smiled weakly and nodded and let _him_ comfort _her_ when they tried to talk of those things, and how on earth could she expect to be first in his life when he was so tied up in fear and anger and regret? When he'd spent hundreds of years trying to find his son only to lose him and to lose himself in the process? When he'd been enslaved and tortured and she never once – not one single time – told him how very proud she was of him for being a _hero_.

She thought she was all cried out, but it is a long time before she is able to lift her head from her folded arms and face the world again. 

Belle scrubs at her cheeks, bends to find the paper on the floor. She can see vague shapes walking past the library, but no one attempts to open the door. 

She straightens her spine. 

Rumplestiltskin made a lot of mistakes. But so did she. And there is still time to put it all back together again.

She glances down at the crumpled paper in her hand, nods decisively. She will begin with the library. The books were chosen with – or by – the curse, and she can't even begin to know what crucial information may be found in the stacks. There are also magical books in the shop and stacked everywhere in the house, and she hasn't even begun to explore the caverns in the basement below the library. And Regina – Regina will have magical texts as well, and Regina owes her. 

She will reconstruct her life. She will make the library into a place of learning; set up a corner with picture books for the children, organize the shelves so that everyone can find what they need. She'll enlist Will Scarlet to help her, finally use that discretionary fund that has languished in the bank to give the man a steady income and try to convince him to put away his lock-picking tools for good, and perhaps find a way to get him to open his heart so she can help him as well. She will furnish her tiny apartment with pretty things that make her smile to look at them. She will convince Mary Margaret to bring the children from her classroom to the library on a field trip.

She will invite Ruby for tea – or perhaps something stronger – and she will seek out Leroy and tease him until he blushes, and she will put flowers on Bae's grave every Sunday, and she will forge a life for herself in this town.

And while she does that, she will search. For information about the dagger, for a way to free Rumple of its hold that doesn't involve magical hats or crushing hearts, not even that of the pirate who tried to kill her. For a way for Rumple to return to Storybrooke, if he wants to. Because whatever else happened, he also deserves to choose his own fate and not to have it chosen for him.

She will remember that love is layered, as she once told him, and learn to listen with more than her ears. She will learn to communicate, not just talk.

She will find a way, and she will begin with her books.


End file.
